The Irony of Waiting
Well, here i am sitting in my motorbike. Alone, despite the traffic and sounds of the night. Waiting, for someone, something, don’t really know when, just had one thing in my mind, which is to keep waiting, and waiting ’til it’s over. With the company of mosquitos, darkness, cigarette smoke, damp and wet concrete, worn off shoe and hungry stomach, and if i may add, thirsty and itchy throat. What the hell i’m doing in here? Waiting? For what? One word shall come out from my mouth, that is ‘hope’. Yeah, hope is the thing i cling to right now. Hope that i can make a difference, to change something, to make a better way.
Waiting is always easier said than done, i believe. The most part of it, you just need to sit tight and wait. But, the word ‘just’ really bugging me off. You see, every simple thing isn’t always turns out to be simple. There’s some more than that, the catch or the risk or anything. To wait for something means you count the time, the seconds, the minutes, the hours, the days and so on. It got hold off of your head, your mind, and it seem forever, and you can’t get it off outta your mind. It kinda stuck inside your mind and the harder you try it get worse. When the time worn out, you will be restless, keep watching the time every little while.
Now here i am, waiting. Like a statue with scars, try to get this thing straight, being normal. But no, i can’t be normal no matter how hard i tried, i just grew more and more restless. Until when? When the waiting is gonna be over? Have no idea, assumptions doesn’t do any good either.
Watching the cars, the motorcycles, the people, and i keep getting nervous, restless, weary of the situation. I need answer, i need confirmation. It’s just i don’t know when, when my waiting is over. Oh man, it sucks. It’s already 19.09 from 18.08, an hour already, and here i am, still waiting…